


Interrogation

by irishlullaby13



Series: ApocalyptiCorp [7]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22478683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: It's time find out what the other knows...
Relationships: Ichabod Crane/Abbie Mills
Series: ApocalyptiCorp [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582153
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably going to be the only smut fic in the series. Maybe. Maybe not.
> 
> Also a big thank you to Majestrix for helping me out the numerous times I got stuck 😂

In the laws of probability, it was bound to happen. 

The probability it would happen the Monday after they had officially started dating was a bit suspect. The fact it would happen at a cozy resort in Upstate New York in a spaceous cabin near a pristine river and scenic foothills was even more suspect. _This_ , Ichabod had a feeling, was not in fact merely an ApocalyptiCorp delivery.

 _This_ was a ploy to get information from him. 

Abbie hung up her mobile phone and sighed. "Pandora _swears_ they said it was a double occupancy," she said. "And she's going to check and see if there is a roll-away bed available."

"Likely story," Ichabod murmured, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window, watching a couple foxes frolick near the picturesque, snow covered shrubs. His contact lenses framed the foxes and even the trees, positively identifying them. There was something, near the treeline that blipped red but then would dip away. He wondered if it was a predator of some kind, such as a bear or wolf.

"Well we haven't told anyone that we're dating yet," Abbie pointed out. She slid up to his side, her arms snaking around his waist. "Unless you think Pandora is trying to get us to hook up."

Ichabod scoffed lightly. This was much harder than he thought it would be… Not the not being able to trust anything Abbie said or did part--because, damn it all, he still managed to trust her. It was knowing _he_ was lying to _her_. And the clock was winding down to the day he would have to go home. 

Abbie looked up at him. "You're being too quiet. You barely said two words on the way up." She sighed. "You're still trying to figure out how to stay, aren't you?" He nodded. "Can't you have your mom move here, if she's so concerned about your well-being?"

"It's not that…" Ichabod sighed. How could he be honest with her without risking his cover? How could he tell her he was not only a spy, but so terrible at it they were bringing him home and shoving him back into a desk job? Hell, he hadn't even heard from Zoe for three days. Were they honestly just going to leave him on his own like this?

"Then what is it?" Abbie asked.

His eyes roamed around the room, then landed on the bed. It was one of those odd affairs that was suspended off the floor, the headboard mounted to the wall. At this point, he realized he was simply trying to think of something--another lie--to tell Abbie.

Abbie laughed softly and gripped his shirt. "I bet I can get you to talk…" She stepped back, dragging him with her as she walked backwards towards the bed.

"Are you planning to interrogate me?" Ichabod couldn't keep the small grin off his lips. " _Officer_?"

"Oh yes," Abbie said sweetly. "I'm going to interrogate you until you give up all the information you know." Her eyes twinkled wickedly. "'Cause I'm a spy. And that's what spies do."

Ichabod felt a sudden weight lift from his shoulders. "Oh? Well, what if I too am a spy and I can resist every one of your cunning ploys to get said information?"

Abbie pulled him flush against her body, one of her small hands pressing against the front of his trousers. "I have _ways_ of making you talk."

He made a small, helpless sound as her hand delicately stroked him through the thin material. "Oh?" Ichabod cleared his throat and hoped his voice wouldn't squeak again. "And…" _Nope_. He cleared his throat again as Abbie snickered. This time he managed a deep, almost sensual tone. "And what ways would you enlist?"

She practically threw him onto the bed and climbed onto his lap. Abbie carefully drew her skirt up until it was gathered at the top of her thighs and straddled him. Ichabod's breath hitched as she stared down at him, determination in her dark eyes. "Are you a spy, Ichabod Crane? Are you really?"

He hesitated. What if Zoe was actually still watching and just not saying anything? Ichabod quickly reasoned that there was one thing Zoe couldn't resist, and that was mocking him relentlessly. She criticized everything from his hair to how heavily he breathed after running.

Three days without a solitary peep was unlike her, especially without letting him know she was going to be MIA. 

He must have taken too long to answer because Abbie swirled her hips. Ichabod shouted incoherently and grasped her thighs. "Yes!" Ichabod sucked in a deep breath. "Yes… yes I am. Good Lord, woman…"

Abbie cackled with delight and grinned down at him. "Who do you work for?" Abbie's voice was like sin wrapped in silk. He couldn't help but wonder how often she had utilized such a technique to get information. Ichabod whimpered lightly, Abbie pressed her weight down and grinded against him. "Who do you work for, Ichabod?"

"MI6," Ichabod gasped. He squeezed his eyes shut and swore softly. "I was sent here after one of our agents fell off of the radar. Nothing important… just to… check up on things. But when… when… Oh good God, Abbie…"

Abbie daintily unbuttoned his waistcoat and pushed it open. "Go on," she purred, her hands sliding up his chest. " _When_ what?"

"I discovered his posting had been vacated," Ichabod blabbered. "So they asked me to step in… because no one else was available. It was… just an observation posting so they thought I could handle it."

Abbie began to work on the buttons of his shirt, after two buttons, she grinned wickedly and just yanked his shirt open, sending buttons flying. "You know what I like about all the layers you wear?"

"Eh?" Ichabod looked at her questioningly as she began to tug his undershirt from the waistline of his trousers.

"It's like… opening a present, wrapped specially for me," Abbie chimed, pushing the undershirt up until she could run her fingers over his heated skin. "And no one else knows what you're hiding under all these layers except for me…"

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his chest. Her eyes held his. "So you stepped in to take Bill's place after he quote, retired?"

Ichabod nodded. "He was one of our top agents," he provided.

"So, what was your task now that you had his job?" 

Ichabod fidgeted as Abbie nipped at his nipples. She lifted her head and cocked a brow. "Ichabod. What was your task?"

"To… to…" he swallowed hard. "To collect data to determine if the US poses a global threat. I… I open all the documents I deliver, discreetly as possible and reseal them after I check them for information."

"Do you take pictures or scan them with tech?" Abbie asked. Ichabod shook his head. "How do you manage to collect data then?"

"I have an eidetic memory," Ichabod said. "Although, I suppose my glasses and contact lenses catch some information but they're not always reliable. I mostly just wait until I'm at home and relay all the information to my handler verbally."

Abbie stared at him with a surprised expression. "You have an eidetic memory? Does Joe or Pandora know?"

Ichabod shook his head. "As far as I am aware, they do not."

"So do you know what happened to Bill?" Abbie asked.

Ichabod shook his head. "I do not. I thought I had stumbled upon something the night of the party where you introduced us… Honestly, there was something familiar about him, but can't place it… which is very frustrating considering I remember everything I see, hear, taste, smell…"

"Can I tell you a secret?" Abbie asked softly. Ichabod nodded. "I'm the one that saved you on the rooftop."

"I assumed as much after I was informed that you are Nightingale," Ichabod moaned. He was already painfully hard. Surely Abbie could tell? "Abbie, please, I'll tell you anything you want to know…"

She chuckled. "You're a terrible spy."

"Give me a break, it's my first assignment," Ichabod pouted. 

Abbie carefully stood, a foot on either side of his hips. "Was it part of your assignment to seduce me?" Ichabod watched as she dragged her panties down then kicked them off to the side before stepping off the bed.

"Huh? What? No!" Ichabod blurted. "That was… all me. And completely unintentional." He gave her a withering look then let his head fall back with a frustrated sigh. "Abbie…"

She unfastened his belt. "Let me unwrap you, baby," she said sweetly. "Did you happen to bring any condoms with you?"

 _Shit_. "No," Ichabod pouted. "I assumed, since this was a work trip, there would be no… hanky panky."

"Looks like I'll have to ride you bareback then, hmm? Would that be okay?" 

"Of course," Ichabod replied earnestly. "I trust you with my life, Abbie."

For a moment, Abbie's expression faltered. Her eyes widened with vulnerability. He wondered if she trusted him with her life as well. Her face contorted with emotion but then she snapped right back into character. 

Abbie unbuttoned his trousers then dragged down the zip. "There we go," she chimed, reaching into his trousers to coax out his hardened member. Her eyes lit up as it stood tall and proud all on its own. "Have I told you yet, that I was surprised you managed to fit all of this inside of me? I mean…" She gave it a squeeze and hummed with approval. "I've been wondering what it would feel like in my mouth…"

"I… I would much rather shower prior to that," Ichabod said weakly.

"Such a gentleman," Abbie said with an impish grin. "You're off the hook _for now_. But just wait until we're both showered…"

Her nimble fingers glides down his length and back up to the top. Ichabod groaned her name, his hips arching away from the bed.

"I'm not done interrogating you yet," Abbie said saucily. 

"Yes you are," Ichabod grumbled.

"No," Abbie said slowly. "I'm no--ah!"

In a quick movement, Ichabod had swept Abbie up into his arms and thrown her down on the bed. Her dark eyes widened as she gazed up at him, mildly breathless. "It seems the tables have been turned."

She tried to tilt her head up stubbornly, but Ichabod seized the opportunity to swoop down and kiss a blazing path from the hallow of her throat to the underside of her chin. Abbie's feet kicked gently as he delicately nipped her chin.

"I'll never talk," Abbie insisted.

"Oh but you will," Ichabod said. "And if you lie, I'll know."

"Will you, really? I've been lying to you left and right for months," Abbie huffed. "How will you know if I'm lying?"

She swallowed hard when he smirked down at her.

"Eidetic memory has many, many applications, Abbie," Ichabod pointed out. "Including but not limited to, noticing certain habits you have when you lie."

"I don't ha--" Abbie clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. "This is me, not talking."

Situating himself between her thighs, Ichabod continued his slow assault on her neck with his lips. For a moment, Abbie tensed but then relaxed with a soft hum. "So where did you _really_ learn to navigate a field of lasers?"

"Hmm? Oh, um," Abbie sighed softly. "Not talking." 

Ichabod unbuttoned her coat and pulled her blouse from her skirt. Abbie gasped and arched as his hand ghosted over her skin. "Tell me," he murmured.

" _No_ ," Abbie pouted. "It's silly." Ichabod slithered down her body and let his lips follow the path his fingers had just taken. She trembled and squinched her face. " _Jesus take the wheel_... My sister and I used to play spies as kids. Mama would string up yarn to be the lasers and we would work our way through. Jenny was clumsy as shit and could never make it. I almost always got through."

Ichabod lifted his head. 

"Only two people alive besides you know that," Abbie said with a defeated sigh. "Jenny and Joe. It still makes Jenny mad. Especially when Joe and I insist on making a yarn laser field for family fun night."

Ichabod blinked slowly. "You're telling the truth," he murmured. He pulled her blouse completely up over her breasts. Licking his lips, he plucked the tiny hook open at the front of her bra. "Beautiful…"

A small smile pulled at Abbie's lips as he swiped the cups of her bra to the side. She sucked in a sharp breath as he trailed the backs of his fingers over the sides of her breasts. He watched with satisfaction as goose pimples dotted her flesh and her nipples hardened. Ichabod let his fingers continue downward, barely touching her stomach. Abbie made a soft sound and her hips flexed when he passed her skirt and touched the flesh of her thighs.

Ichabod met Abbie's eyes. "How long have you suspected me?"

"I never _suspected_ you," Abbie said. "I was told the morning after the Christmas party." Abbie's back bowed off the bed and she gasped loudly as Ichabod eased two fingers inside of her. Her heels dug into the bed and she bit down on her bottom lip as his thumb moved in a slow pattern over her clit.

Abbie grasped the duvet next to her head, twisting the fabric as she fought against riding Ichabod's hand as he moved with gentle motions. " _Shit_ ," Abbie panted. "So if I'm a good girl and answer your questions, I get rewarded?"

"That's not a bad idea," Ichabod chuckled, rubbing his cheek against her breasts. "I should do that."

"Dammit," Abbie grumbled.

"I told you who I work for, it's only fair you tell me who gives you your orders," Ichabod said. "I know it's not the police department or ApocalyptiCorp."

A smug little smile appeared on Abbie's lips. "No one gives me orders," Abbie replied. She gawked when he pulled his fingers from her body. "The FBI. They scouted me at Quantico for this kind of work. It started with a few simple infiltration gigs. Before long I'm one of their top operatives."

"Your files say you suffered an injury during training," Ichabod said.

"Technically that's true," Abbie replied. "I dislocated my little toe on my bed when I was on my way back from a bathroom run. Rather than spend weeks in recovery, I just let the bitch stay dislocated and powered on through."

Ichabod cocked a brow.

"I got it fixed after I finished Quantico," she finished. 

Ichabod nuzzled his face between her breasts, grinding his hips between her legs. He kissed a path to just below her ear. "What about you? Are you only with me to keep an eye on me?"

"Ichabod," Abbie groaned. "I just said I only found out after the Christmas party. And in case you forgot… it's part of my job to keep an eye on you anyway. To keep you safe."

Lifting his head, Ichabod stared down at her for a long moment. She had a point there. A thought suddenly occurred to him. What were the odds that both of their respective agencies would discover their identities at the same time?

He was about to ask her that very thing when Abbie grinned wickedly and flipped their positions. Ichabod made a pleased sound as her lips kissed his chest and her hands explored. "My turn," Abbie teased. "How long have you known I am Nightingale? Officially."

"The morning after the Christmas party," Ichabod replied without hesitation. Yes there had been suspicion that there was more to the beautiful security lieutenant than met the eye. But he had never suspected her of being a spy. Even though, in hindsight, it all made sense. 

Abbie lifted her head and scowled. "That's a hell of a coincidence," she muttered. "We find out on the same day…"

"If I'm not mistaken, within minutes of each other," Ichabod added. 

They both lay in silence, regarding the other. Suddenly, Abbie kissed him hard, swirling her hips languidly against him. In a frenzy of desperation, they tugged and ripped at each other's clothes, flinging each article to the wayside as it broke free.

"So I'm guessing you being recalled because of your mom is a lie?" Abbie asked as she found herself staring up at Ichabod once again.

"You said it yourself, I'm a terrible spy," Ichabod commented. "That's the primary reason. The director is good friends with my mother also so… if she thinks something is dangerous enough, she will refuse to let me do it because she fears my mother's wrath."

"You're not a terrible spy," Abbie said. "You're just an inexperienced spy. There's a difference."

Abbie cried out softly when Ichabod pushed two fingers inside of her again, pushing deep as his thumb strummed her clit. "I want to be inside of you, my love," Ichabod murmured against her jaw. "I want to feel you around me again."

"What are you waiting for, then?" 

"For you to want it too," Ichabod said. Abbie blinked up at him, as though it were such a foreign concept to _want_ her partner. She had wanted him the night of the Christmas party so he knew what Abbie's face looked like when she wanted him. 

Her eyes softened and she slowly smiled. "I don't think I've ever wanted anyone more than I want you right now," Abbie said softly, stroking his beard.

“Then have me,” he said simply, and leaned down to kiss her again. It was long and languid, like they have all the time in the world. In this instance, Ichabod would like to believe they do. Everything is soft and unhurried and when he sinks into Abbie it is a slow, torturous slide until he bottoms out. Ichabod dropped his forehead against Abbie’s neck, trying to will himself not to come immediately. 

“Oh my god,” she panted. “I need you to move.”

Ichabod’s eyes were squeezed shut as he breathed deeply out his nose. “I beg you give me a moment,” he said, obviously strained. 

"I said… _move_ ," Abbie growled, her palms resting on the flesh of his backside. Her fingers flexed, her nails biting into his skin. The effect was immediate. Ichabod thrust hard against her. Abbie threw her head back and groaned, her thighs trembling against his hips.

Ichabod growled with frustration and scraped his teeth against the curve of her neck. "You will be the end of me, woman," he grumbled.

"I will be if you don't… freakin'... _Move_ ," Abbie threatened in frustration. 

Ichabod braced himself over her, an arcane smile on his face. "Like this?" He withdrew slowly then slid back he with the same torturous pace. A hiss escaped between his teeth as he felt her throbbing around his length, hot and wet, surrounding him so completely.

Abbie fidgeted restlessly, swatting at his backside as she made a frustrated sound. She bit down on her bottom lip then let out an agitated groan. "Bastard!"

"Or perhaps, like this?" Ichabod rose to brace his weight on his hands on either side of Abbie’s shoulders and set a determined pace.

"Oh God yes," Abbie whimpered, her voice trembling. "Don't stop… don't stop…"

Her nails scratched up and down his back. The room was filled with their desperate sighs as they moved against each other, both aching for more but knowing if they tread too far too fast, neither would last.

Ichabod rested his forehead against hers. "Is Abbie Mills even your real name?"

Abbie wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned. "Nope. My name is actually Grace Abigail Mills. I've gone by Abbie my… wh--whoooh--whole life."

She let out a soft scream when Ichabod thrust deep and hard into her body, her nails digging into his shoulders, her legs kicking out involuntarily. " _Shit_ , give a girl some warning," Abbie whimpered, shivering.

"If I warned you, that would give you time to prepare for it," Ichabod teased, kissing the tip of her nose. "And I much prefer… watching… you… come… undone." He punctuated each word with another thrust, making Abbie's body jerk and her make incoherent noises as she clung to him.

" _Fuck_ ," Abbie sobbed. "Get me pregnant."

Ichabod faltered. "I beg your pardon?"

Abbie cackled almost drunkenly. "I'm sure your mama wouldn't dream of asking her baby boy to abandon the mother of her grandchild. You could stay here. With me. And our baby."

Ichabod stroked Abbie's hair away from her face. He searched her rosey face, took in her blissful smile, and sparkling eyes. He tried not to imagine a little one that had her big dark eyes and wicked smile. He failed miserably.

He could picture them so clearly. 

"I love you," he murmured, tilting her chin just enough to kiss her softly.

Abbie moaned softly, her hands sliding into his hair as she returned the kiss. Her hips began to move in time with his own. Their momentum built slowly, until they were both gasping for breath. Ichabod reached between their bodies and found her clit, rubbing gently until Abbie found her release, tears gleaming in her eyes.

Just a few more thrusts and Ichabod was following her. They lay panting for several minutes, just revelling in what they had just shared. The two giggled as they moved away from each other long enough to wriggle beneath the blankets and cuddle up together.

Abbie rested her head on Ichabod's chest, running her fingers through the coarse hairs there. "So is Ichabod Crane _your_ real name," Abbie asked, tilting her head up to look at him in the face.

Ichabod snorted lightly. "Unfortunately, yes," he muttered, then chuckled lightly. He was quiet for a moment then said, "It's been bothering me, for some time, that I couldn't be honest with you."

"Let's hope they don't send a hitman after us for spilling our secrets to each other," Abbie laughed. She pulled a face as her phone began to ring, somewhere on the floor. "Shit. That's probably Pandora."

She groaned as she pulled away from the warmth of Ichabod's body and leaned over the edge of the bed to retrieve her phone. No sooner than she had lain flat, one of the windows cracked in an almost spiderweb manner. Abbie rolled out of the bed and onto the floor as a bullet hit the headboard, where she had just been.

Ichabod's heart leapt into his throat as another shot completely shattered the window and Abbie flattened herself to the ground just before a second bullet hit the nightstand. Time almost seemed to stand still as he watched Abbie yank the bedsheet off the bed and wrap it around herself in one fluid motion. She grabbed her gun up off the floor then drove across the bed, knocking both himself and her over the edge and onto the floor. 

It was then instincts finally kicked in. Ichabod reached under the bed to grab his briefcase and quickly dialed in the code to open it. All of this, despite the fact Abbie was doing her damnedest to keep him pinned to the floor.

"What are you doing?" Abbie groused.

"Protecting you, obviously," Ichabod muttered and Abbie scoffed. "They've fired two shots at you despite my being an easy target. They're not trying to kill me. They're trying to kill _you_."

Abbie's face looked panicked for a moment. "What? Why would--"

The locks popped open on the case. "I was staring out the window earlier. Perfect opportunity to take me out. Either they are trying to take you out so they can take me hostage or… they just want you dead. Considering how effective of an agent you are, there's approximately a seventy percent chance they just want you dead."

Ichabod opened the case, a smile overtaking his face as he gazed down at the weapon inside. "My desk job was primarily risk assessment for missions," he continued, taking out a piece at a time and assembling the gun. "As well as acting as a handler for a few MI6 field agents. They loved the fact I could look at a situation and figure out the most likely way to get them out alive at the very least."

Abbie arched a brow. "Oh? And what does your expertise say in this situation?" Her eyes roamed over his gun and she smirked. "Big gun for a big man."

With a wicked grin, Ichabod set it down in the case and grabbed his trousers. He quickly put them on, trying his best to stay below the top of the bed, just in case he was wrong with his assessment. "My assessment says you need to put on my coat." At her questioning look, he added. "You're not exactly dressed for the cold and it also meets NIJ IIIA standards."

Abbie smiled in that way that made his heart flutter--with the little head tilt and a warmth in her eyes--as she slipped on his coat. " _Such a gentleman_ ," Abbie said for the second time that day. She chambered a round in her own gun. "How's your aim with that thing?"

"I have one of the best certifying scores at MI6," Ichabod boasted.

"Then why haven't they--oh right your mom and the director," Abbie shook her head. "If you transferred to the FBI you wouldn't have that problem."

"Tempting," Ichabod replied. "But let's get through this first, shall we?"

"Alright. Let's get this asshole," Abbie said. "What's the best way for us to get out of this alive Mister Risk Accessor?"

Ichabod peered over the bed, scanning the outside. He focused on where the red blip had happened near the treeline. _Finally_. A face. A man dressed in all black winter wear, looking right back at him through a rifle's telescope. Without his face exposed, Ichabod wouldn't be able to get an identity. "There's one man, near the treeline. Stay behind me and we can most likely get him before he gets us."

"If he runs?"

"Shoot him, obviously," Ichabod stated.

Abbie nudged him with her elbow. "My man," she grinned. "Let's go."

With Ichabod in the lead, they went out into the cold with guns blazing.


End file.
